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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30016014">The Importance of Being</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenwho/pseuds/queenwho'>queenwho</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Books, Break Up, Getting Back Together, M/M, My boys are endgame always bye</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:55:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,445</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30016014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenwho/pseuds/queenwho</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn’t notice him at first and it wasn’t until later when he said hello. Yuuri said hello back, murmured it, more like, and the shy flutter of his eyes had Viktor captured. </p><p>Years later, pulled up at the side of I-80 with his blinkers flashing and cigarette smoke cloying in his lungs, Viktor desperately wishes he stayed away from quiet boys with warm smiles and pink, blushing cheeks. </p><p>~</p><p>Or maybe Viktor found Yuuri only to lose him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Importance of Being</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They met during a get-to-know you, orienting themselves around the people they’ll be living on the same floor with for the rest of the freshman year.</p><p>It was stiflingly hot then, the California sun providing no reprieve. Viktor was not used to it at all; he has lived in chilly Saint Petersburg for the past 18 years of his life and 47 hours stateside on a warm autumn afternoon was definitely not enough to get him settled. </p><p>They were huddled in a circle, the usual introductions lighting the lips of everybody during their turn. What’s your name, your major? A fun fact? Polite head nods as answers, little bursts of laughter when someone was particularly witty. </p><p>He didn’t notice him at first; a quiet boy who seemed to treasure blending into the crowd as if it were a talent. Viktor was too busy paying attention to the larger than lifes: to Christophe, his roommate, with his coquettish demeanor and the tips of his blond hair dyed pink, to Seunggil, the computer science major whose face seemed stuck perpetually sedate. A personified tabula rasa.</p><p>It wasn’t until later when they were at the Big Night, queuing up in a line for dollar pizzas when he said hello. </p><p>Yuuri said hello back, murmured it, more like, and the shy flutter of his eyes had Viktor captured. </p><p>__</p><p>Years later, pulled up at the side of I-80 with his blinkers flashing and cigarette smoke cloying in his lungs, Viktor desperately wishes he stayed away from quiet boys with warm smiles and pink, blushing cheeks. </p><p>__</p><p>It was slow going. They started as neighbors with Yuuri and Phichit’s room right next to his and Chris’. They’d see each other on the way back from classes or to and from the communal bathrooms. On the rare occasions, Viktor would join Yuuri in the dining hall, munching silently on their food in the way acquaintances who have nothing to say to each other often do. The first semester of freshman year passed by with nothing but minutes of Yuuri’s time scattered throughout the months. </p><p>Then, come second semester, they became friends of a friend. Chris and Phichit, both effortlessly easy-going and cheerful, inevitably hit it off after they found out they had Psych 100 together. Phichit  would come bursting into their dorm room complaining about another essay or quiz to Chris and sometimes, Yuuri would trail awkwardly behind Phichit, not unlike a lost puppy. </p><p>He’d fumblingly ask Viktor everytime if it would be okay to sit on his bed while Phichit immediately jumped head first into Chris’. Everytime, Viktor would quietly pat his bed and smile and watch as Yuuri blushed and daintily sat on the very edge. </p><p>During the first few times this happened, Yuuri only said hello and was content to watch the others in the room converse. A few weeks into the semester, however, after being allowed to sit on the bed, he pulled a book from his backpack and relaxed into the mattress. </p><p>“The Picture of Dorian Gray?” Viktor asked, quiet and low, painfully aware of how skittish Yuuri can be.</p><p>True to form, Yuuri jumped a little and looked at the book in his hands as if he had never seen it. “Oh, yes,” he said, turning the book over to show the cover. “Oscar Wilde is one of my favorite authors.”</p><p>Viktor hummed, genuinely surprised. He never pegged Yuuri as a Wilde fan and he said as much to him. </p><p>Yuuri laughed, the lines of his shoulders relaxing further. Books, Viktor noted, was a safe topic of conversation with Yuuri.</p><p>“I guess it is pretty uncharacteristic. Wilde may be too unapologetic to be my favorite but I think that’s why I like him,” Yuuri said, smiling and fiddling with the book cover. “I admire his conviction to remain no one but himself.”</p><p>Viktor, for all the grace he possesses with small talk, didn’t know what to say to this. He has never dived straight into the heart of a conversation before but something about Yuuri tells him small talk may be more of a barrier than an ice breaker. So he took a leap.</p><p>“Are authors ever truly one hundred percent themselves, though?” Viktor hazarded, his eyes also on the cover boasting Oscar Wilde’s face. “I think there must be something they take from all the characters they create. I don’t think they can spend so much time with other people, no matter how fictional, and end up as the same person they began with.” </p><p>The fingers fiddling with the book abruptly halted and Viktor looked up to see Yuuri looking back at him, brown eyes scrutinizing. He mumbled something Viktor didn’t catch.</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>“Most people are other people.” Yuuri repeated, though he still whispered it softly enough that Viktor had to strain his ears to hear it. “Wilde wrote that. I thought I knew what he meant but…” He trailed off, still looking at Viktor like he was seeing him for the first time. </p><p>“Most people are other people,” Viktor parroted back softly, breaking Yuuri’s gaze to look at where Chris and Phichit were chatting boisterously on the other side of the room. Their movements mirrored each other in a way that seemed almost choreographed. </p><p>“I like it,” Viktor finally finished. “I think there’s something in taking a part of someone with you, don’t you think?”</p><p>__</p><p>After that, it was like a landfall. Suddenly, Yuuri was everywhere. </p><p>He was at Viktor’s favorite spot in the library, holding a new book each time and hunkering down beside him while Viktor tapped away on his laptop. He was at the frat parties Chris dragged Viktor to, downing jello shots like the next day wasn’t a Thursday. He was at Memorial Glade, sprawled on the grassy field with Phichit on his side, Chris on Viktor’s other while the four of them whiled away the incoming summer heat between classes. </p><p>And in all that time spent together, Viktor realized that Yuuri wasn’t so much shy as self-restrained; there were vibrant parts of him that he desperately contained and maintained close to his chest, as if he were afraid that they would be too bright to look at. Still, Viktor was lucky enough that a kind tap to Yuuri’s walls and he started to reveal all that light brick by exhilarating brick. </p><p>But it took some work on Viktor’s part all the same. Yuuri didn’t hand himself over freely, and people often dismissed him for his apparent aloofness. But Viktor wanted to know Yuuri; he doesn’t even remember the last time he was so interested in actually just knowing and understanding someone before. He wanted to get past all the rubble and let Yuuri know that with Viktor, he could just be. </p><p>Most people are other people, yes, but it started to look like Katsuki Yuuri was a person all on his own. </p><p>__</p><p>“Won’t you be late for your book club?” Chris said one afternoon in April. He and Viktor were in their dorm room, both hunched over their desks with laptops charged and coffee cups full. </p><p>“My what?” Viktor answered distractedly, checking his binder for his missing phonetics worksheet. </p><p>“It’s a Wednesday today which is also known as pester Yuuri on what he’s reading this week day,” Chris said, leaning back on his chair and shutting his laptop. </p><p>Viktor glanced at the wooden clock that he and Chris had bought from a street seller in San Francisco and waved his hand. “We moved it to later tonight. Finals is kicking both of our asses,” he said and groaned. “Have you seen my worksheet? I don’t know where I put it.”</p><p>“On your bed. You put it there like ten minutes ago,” Chris said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Also, I like how you didn’t even protest that it was a book club.”</p><p>“It’s not a book club, Chris,” Viktor said obediently, rolling his eyes. “It’s called hanging out with your friend. Try it some time.”</p><p>“Hanging out with your friend or stealth dating your friend? Vote on your phones now!” Chris said mockingly and before Viktor could reply, he stood up and grabbed his towel. “Anyway, I need a shower. This damned heat wave will kill me before I can even take my finals.”</p><p>Viktor was left, stock still, hand clutching his worksheet so tight it wrinkled.</p><p>__</p><p>Finals came and went and with it the end of the academic year came. Their dorm was abuzz with the rolling of carts as students and their family stripped the rooms bare of worldly possessions, placing them in the carts to be transported home in cars and ubers. </p><p>“You’ve only been here for a year, how could you have bought so many things, old man?” Yuri said as he angrily ripped the sheet off of Viktor’s bed. </p><p>Viktor was squeezed between his aunt Lilia and his closet as she watched over them pack Viktor’s things, unimpressed. </p><p>“I had to buy bedsheets, Yura,” Viktor said calmly and plunged his arm in the crevice between the wall and the closet, fingertips reaching for a grey shirt that wormed its way impossibly far into the divide. </p><p>“Yeah but did you have to fucking buy everything else?” Yuri grumbled and grumbled louder after a sharp look from aunt Lilia. “Fine, did you have to freaking buy everything else?”</p><p>Viktor snorted. “You wait until next year when you’re here. Let’s see if you don’t amass a thousand cat printed whatever.”</p><p>Chris was on his bed, absolutely of no help to anyone as he watched them with amusement. He had the foresight to see the kind of chaos a mass move-out would bring and called his family to come pick him up the next day instead. “I support cat printed whatevers,” he said happily. </p><p>“Less chatter, more packing,” Lilia said, interrupting their bickering. “But Yura is right, Vitya. I also do not understand how you could have filled six boxes when you came here from Piter with only two,” she said, lifting a shirt with her pointer finger and thumb to throw it into one of the said boxes. </p><p>“Magic, aunt Lilia,” Viktor answered distractedly, jumping in success as he finally snagged the cursed shirt. </p><p>A knock on the door stopped whatever scathing remark that was sure to have come out of his aunt’s lips. Viktor marched over, saved by the proverbial bell, and poked his head out. </p><p>Yuuri stood there, a small smile quirking his lips, his weight shifting from side to side.</p><p>“Hey,” he greeted softly. </p><p>So <em>soft</em>. Yuuri was always so soft. </p><p>Viktor quickly went out of his room and into the hallway, closing the door behind him and narrowly avoiding a girl passing by with a lamp slung over shoulder. </p><p>“Hi,” Viktor said, smiling at Yuuri as well.</p><p>“I wanted to say bye before I left,” Yuuri said, the fingers of his hands meeting in the middle, clutching each other.</p><p>“Right. Back to Japan for you, right?” Viktor said, leaning on the wall, trying to look as casual as he can manage. </p><p>The last two weeks were strange for him, to say the least. The air around him and Yuuri was filled with an awkward tension Viktor was sure only he felt. After Chris’ comment, things started to slot in place in Viktor’s mind and he didn’t know how he didn’t see it before when it was glaring at his face. </p><p>His and Yuuri’s weekly book meetings, their coffee study sessions, their late night conversations. Hell, Yuuri even texted him before he was about to sleep. </p><p>Viktor texted good night back. Every time. </p><p>He and Yuuri were dating. Or were they? Nothing’s ever been said outright but Viktor wasn’t sure if it was just Yuuri’s nature to let things be left presumed or if he was reading into things, bolstered by Chris’ insinuation and his own unwavering want. </p><p>Because he found that he did want. He wanted to date Yuuri. He wanted <em>Yuuri</em>. To be always with him, beside him. He wanted to listen to Yuuri ramble about Vonnegut and Hemingway, about the Legend of Zelda and Fortnite, about Attack on Titan and My Hero Academia. All these things he either vaguely knew about before or was very mildly interested in were all so important to him now. All because they were important to Yuuri. </p><p>He has felt overwashed and tumble dried many times these past two weeks thinking about all of this, so much so that he thinks his colors are starting to fade. He’s dry clean only too, he’s pretty sure, but he let thoughts of Yuuri run over him so much that they started to stain. </p><p>And it was his luck that Chris decided to open his big mouth weeks before he and Yuuri both left the city. </p><p>Three and a half months before the start of the next school year. Three and a half months before they see each other again. </p><p>Yuuri, the one here and now and not the one always on Viktor’s mind, shook his head. “No, I’m staying at Mari’s in San Francisco for a week before we both fly back to Japan,” he said, completely unaware of Viktor’s turmoil.</p><p>“Bring me something from home?” Viktor said, voice unwittingly small and needy because he can picture Yuuri in his hometown by the beach, skin glowing luminescent under the sun and the want that pulsed through him right then was stronger than any self-preservation Viktor had. </p><p>If at all possible, Yuuri’s smile melted into something even softer. “I already have something in mind,” he mumbled before he wrapped his arms around Viktor’s neck and pulled him into a hug. </p><p>It was brief but it was enough for Viktor to think, <em>this could be something. This could be everything.</em> </p><p>Yuuri had pulled back before he could finish the thought, though, and it was again tucked away into a corner of his brain, left to be examined at a later date. </p><p>“Call me? Or facetime me or whatever. I don’t want you racking up your phone bill,” Yuuri said, a blush on his cheeks Viktor couldn’t, for the life of him, look away from.</p><p>“Yes, of course. Anytime,” Viktor said because how can he do anything but say yes to whatever Yuuri asked of him right then?</p><p>He smiled again and walked back into his room. With one last glance at Viktor, he was gone. </p><p>Three and a half months. </p><p>Viktor thought that this feeling, whatever it was, could conquer that and so much longer.</p><p>____</p><p>“The very essence of romance is uncertainty.” </p><p>― <b>Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest</b></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes, it's me starting a new WIP when I haven't updated my other WIP in forever. That's coming around, maybe. </p><p>This one is entirely self-indulgent, painful, and short. I want to hit myself with angst so its gonna be there! I've written most of it so it's not going to stay unfinished (hopefully). </p><p>Comments and kudos and you get e-kisses. Extra cookies if you know what university the boys are at!</p><p>"Most people are other people" is from Oscar Wilde's De Profundis.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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